


elegy #15

by tvfanatic97



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, MJ is a good mom, Mentions of Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28600347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvfanatic97/pseuds/tvfanatic97
Summary: MJ and her family celebrate a birthday, though there is a notable, glaring absence from their celebrations.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Flash Thompson, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 30
Kudos: 70





	elegy #15

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seekrest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/gifts).



> SEEEEEEK, happy belated birthday you angst gremlin!!! Firstly, I'm sorry this is late I really did try to get it out on time but...you know how life be sometimes. Secondly, I can't believe you made me, the babiest babie, write an MCD fic?? Like yes it's technically impossible that you could've "made me" do this when you literally had no idea I had written this but this is still definitely on you. You are SICK (and I love and appreciate you endlessly).

MJ finds herself wide awake just before the rising sun heralds the beginning of a new day. The room is bathed in the faint light of the impending sunrise and there’s a quiet stillness in the air.

The start of this day this year is in direct contrast to how the day would usually commence—with languid lovemaking, both shushing the other whilst simultaneously muttering quiet, filthy words back and forth to rile the other one up as their bodies gently glided against each other, sweat-slicked.

Sighing deeply, MJ flips over to face the other side of the bed where her toddler is currently sleeping, body moving gently with his respiration and little sighs escaping him each time he exhales.

He’s gotten better about sleeping alone in his own room but last night he’d quietly snuck into her bedroom and politely asked if he could sleep with her instead, almost as if he, much like her, sensed the significance of the day ahead of them and felt the weight of his grief pressing on his chest more acutely. She knows as a two-year old his sense of time isn’t very accurate, nor does he really understand the concept of death yet making that thought virtually impossible, even if she knows he senses and is acutely aware of his father’s sudden and glaring absence from their home and their lives.

Her gaze travels from the top of his head down to the side of his face not currently buried in the mattress and her eyes trace over his features that are a mixture of her and Peter. It still astounds her sometimes when she looks at him, that they created a life together, that this little human came out of her. She doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away.

Feeling nearly overwhelmed by her adoration for him, she reaches a hand forward and starts to gently run her fingers through his soft chocolate curls and despite still being soundly asleep, he subconsciously shifts across the bed, seeking out her touch and warmth by moving closer in a way that’s so achingly familiar as it is how the previous occupant of that side of the bed would have reacted, too.

They end up cuddled together, Ben still fast asleep in her arms with his head pillowed on her chest as they both derive warmth and comfort from the other. Sleep does not return for MJ, but she feels a sense of contentment at having Ben with her even, or especially, on days like today that remind her of who is missing from their little family.

* * *

A few hours later once the sun has fully risen, Ben wakes up and MJ takes that as her cue to get out of bed and start getting ready for the day ahead.

She starts with washing and dressing Ben, who is uncharacteristically fussy and uncooperative given how considerate and polite he usually is, even at such a tender age. MJ tries to not snap at him, knowing that he feeds off her energy and getting angry would just make things worse.

Given that Michelle was the one working and so had to leave the house early and quickly whilst Peter stayed at home with Ben, this part was always his job whilst she took care of getting him to sleep in the evenings.

They eventually manage to get through getting Ben ready though it takes nearly two hours, which leaves MJ no time to get ready herself outside of quickly washing her face and changing into a basic t-shirt and pair of jeans.

She tries to get to work putting the food May had kindly dropped off for today for MJ’s share of the potluck, knowing MJ wouldn’t have the energy or desire to cook herself, in the oven but Ben constantly clings to her almost desperately, wanting to stay close-by which makes her job difficult to the point she gives up and decides to wait till her friends arrive to help her.

As if on cue, the doorbell rings, startling both her and Ben from where they were settled on the floor of the living room playing.

MJ is not surprised to find Flash on the other side of the door, nor is she surprised to see the box he carries which has bottles of wine so expensive they probably cost more than her annual salary.

It’s unsurprising because Flash always brings alcohol for the potluck and he always arrives first to their little gatherings, even back when they were at Midtown when they started having them as a way to reconnect and bond over that acute feeling of displacement that came with being dusted out of existence for five years then coming back five years in the future to a world that had moved on without you. She suspects it’s because Flash is just so excitable and genuinely enjoys their company, especially now when adulthood often gets in the way of them spending any real time all together, but Flash would deny that as a reason and cite punctuality instead.

“Hey MJ,” he greets with a small smile, one that conveys understanding and empathy and warmth all at once. He turns to the toddler in her arms, “Hey Benny!”

“Eugene,” MJ says coolly at the same time as Ben exclaims, “Flash!” his enunciation not quite right whilst he raises an arm excitedly. Flash visits often enough that the initial trepidation Ben once held for him as a perceived stranger has since faded, giving way to the unbridled joy that washes over her son’s face at the sight of one of her oldest friends.

Ben especially loves Flash because—

“I got you a present, Benny,” Flash says, raising his eyebrows and smiling conspiratorially as he walks through into the house.

“You spoil him too much,” MJ chides half-heartedly at his back where he walks ahead of her to place everything in his hands down.

Flash doesn’t respond immediately, instead focusing on digging something out of the box before he turns around and shows Ben the little plush elephant toy which looks bespoke, and _expensive_ ; he really does spoil him too much.

Elephants are the new addition in her son’s ever-changing rotation of hyper-fixations so at the sight of it, Ben gasps excitedly and starts to wriggle out of her hold. MJ lets him go and watches fondly as Flash very formally introduces Ben to Archie the elephant—he always speaks to Ben as if speaking to a person, no baby voice, which MJ appreciates.

MJ is just about to chime in to remind Ben of his manners when her son beats her to it, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, buddy. Elephants are the best,” Flash says before he stands upright from his previous crouched position, allowing Ben time to marvel over his gift.

When Flash’s gaze meets hers MJ just raises her eyebrows and shakes her head at him.

“What?” Flash says, raising him arms defensively. “I have to make sure I remain his favourite god dad somehow!”

That gets a bemused scoff out of MJ before she makes her way towards the couch and collapses on one end whilst Flash sits down on the other end, Ben on the floor between them playing with his toys again.

“You do realise he’s gonna destroy that really expensive teddy, right?”

Flash shrugs like he doesn’t mind, and MJ knows he doesn’t because to him money spent on Ben barely registers.

From there the pair start to talk animatedly. They talk about the new client Flash’s PR firm has acquired and MJ’s new role since she reduced her responsibilities, about Flash’s disastrous love life, about a recent documentary they both watched, about anything that comes to mind. Conversation has always flowed easily between the two of them, even now as they pointedly avoid the topic of Peter or the date.

They settle into a comfortable silence as Flash moves to the floor with Ben, paying attention to try and figure out the rules for the ridiculous game Ben has just made up that he’s roped Flash into playing with him.

MJ thinks of all the cooking she still has to do as the clock ticks closer to midday when the rest of her friends are meant to arrive.

Flash must notice the way her gaze occasionally flits to the kitchen, or the concern etched on her face because he says, “Ben and I are all good here. If you, you know, if there’s stuff you need to do. After a moment he adds, “I promise not to give him any money whilst you’re not here.”

MJ rolls her eyes but finds herself snorting bemusedly before she hauls herself off the couch. “I just need to put stuff in the oven, I won’t be long.”

Flash just mutters his agreement, already turned back to Ben with rapt attention that he barely pays MJ any attention.

Once in the kitchen she gets to work placing the lasagna in the oven, then whilst it’s in there she starts to work on making a garlic butter for the garlic bread and chopping up vegetables for a salad. The mundane tasks keep her mind distracted enough that it barely wanders to memories of making this same exact meal as Peter would keep popping into the kitchen to distract her with kisses and nuzzles to her neck until she would have to ban him from the small space.

After a while Flash comes to join her in the kitchen and she eyes him curiously.

“I gave him some wine and he got drunk and just passed out.”

MJ levels him with an unimpressed glare.

“Kidding! But he _is_ napping though,” Flash explains. “Not because of alcohol!” he rushes to add on.

MJ just shakes her head, as she crouches in front of the oven to look in and see roughly how close it is to being done.

It still needs some more time so she stands up straight again and leans against the counter as the pair settle into a silence that’s not entirely comfortable but not unbearable either.

Flash breaks the silence eventually, his voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper as if he doesn’t want to startle her in any way. “Hey, do you remember that time you and Peter broke up in college?”

“Which time?” MJ responds with a scoff.

“Start of our junior year,” Flash expands.

MJ does remember. Her and other members of the academic decathlon team along with their attachment issues had all wound up at ESU together, all maintaining their friendship even when Peter and MJ broke up briefly during their freshman year, then again at the start of their junior year and she remembers each time so acutely, like it was just yesterday.

All she offers Flash is a non-committal shrug.

“Did Peter ever tell you about the time him and I almost hooked up at some frat party we went to to help him drown his sorrows?”

MJ laughs, small and quiet. “You mean the time he drunkenly threw himself at you?”

“Is that what he told you happened?” Flash says with a disbelieving laugh-like huff. “Of course he’d try to preserve my dignity.”

She narrows her eyes curiously at him.

“It was the other way round, _I_ threw myself at him on a drunken impulse to act on my old school crush on him since he was newly single.”

“Thought you could be his shoulder to cry on?” MJ asks with amusement lacing her tone.

Flash raises his arms, then, “Something like that.” He pauses momentarily before he carries on, “Anyway, so we ended up in some room and were making out and there was also some over the clothes—”

“I don’t need the details of you fucking my husband,” MJ interjects, tone deadpan.

He just rolls his eyes good-naturedly at her. “What I was going to say is, we didn’t even get to second base before he stopped us and said he couldn’t.” A beat. “Because of you.”

Something unnameable swells in MJ’s chest.

“And also, he said we should talk about whatever was going on with me. I ended up opening up to him about my dad cutting me off and he just sat there and listened, and reassured me that he’d be there for me whatever I needed even if he couldn’t offer me financial support because he was broke as shit.”

MJ lets out a chuckle, but it comes out as something more pain-filled, more broken, instead.

Neither of them say anything for a prolonged stretch of time, a quiet unreeling between them as their grief settles and lingers in the air.

Eventually, “I miss him. A lot.” The admission comes out of Flash quiet and small, a secret meant to be kept just between them. In among the other secrets shared between them, like how they are bonded by the irrevocable damage their absent parents have done to them both, like how they’ve managed to carve out their own families in spite, or because of, it.

“Me too,” MJ breathes out, voice shaky and the peripheries of her vision going hazy with unshed tears she desperately tries to blink away.

The jarring sound of the oven timer cuts through the silence, startling yet welcome for the distraction it brings.

MJ clears her throat a few times to try and compose herself then pads across the small kitchen. “I should, um, deal with this.”

Flash seems to catch himself too, excusing himself with mumbles about how he’ll do the horrible task of waking Ben up and interrupting his nap so he can eat, and leaving a prickling sensation right at the center of MJ’s chest in his wake.

* * *

Ned and Betty are next to arrive just as MJ has finished freshening up and Flash has calmed a grumpy Ben down and distracted him with an old video from his long-abandoned YouTube channel from their trip to Europe, pointing out the younger versions of his parents to him whilst Ben watches with rapt attention. MJ hears a lot of _“Your dad was a loser”_ and _“Look at that lame plaid shirt”_.

Ned and Betty arrive together, despite Ned’s constant protests that the two of them spending increasingly more and more time together since Betty relocated back to New York is entirely platonic.

She and Flash just raise their eyebrows at each other, wordlessly communicating as Betty heads to the kitchen to put the dessert in the fridge whilst Ned greets Ben who quickly loses interest in old school trip videos, much to Flash’s chagrin.

“How’s my favorite god son?” Ned greets her son enthusiastically whilst all he offers her in greeting is a distracted wave. He reaches his fingers out to tickle said favorite god son who starts giggling in response.

“You see what I have to compete with?” Flash says gesturing to the pair on the floor.

MJ rolls her eyes exasperatedly at him before she turns to head to the kitchen to get the food out of the oven that was on a low heat to keep it warm.

There, she finds Betty who has already switched the oven off and is working on getting everything out. “Oh sorry if I overstepped, I just thought I’d help with setting the table,” Betty says apologetically when she notices MJ’s presence in the kitchen.

“It’s okay. Thank you,” MJ brushes off her apologies and gets to work getting the table mats out of the drawer to help.

The two make small talk as they work together to set up the fold out table in the kitchen then lay out all the crockery and food on it. They’ve met up here and there to get some coffee and catch up but they’re not as close as they once were in high school when Betty became MJ’s first girl friend; where she and the boys had been rendered too anxious to go far away from home by the decimation so stayed here for undergrad and grad school, she’d been eager to get out and far away from what was once familiar turned uncomfortably strange by being blipped out of existence and had stayed away for years, the distance causing them to naturally drift apart. But they’re slowly trying to mend their friendship, they’re _trying_.

They’re just waiting for the garlic bread as Betty tells MJ a story about the latest piece she’s working on for the Bugle, “So Jameson agreed to let me chase the story and see how it pans out which I didn’t expect. He’s just been so much more amenable and easy-going ever since Peter—” Betty stops herself finishing the sentence, pauses awkwardly, then, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” MJ says, offering her a small smile.

The smile must not quite reach her eyes or be quite as convincing as MJ hoped because Betty’s demeanour suddenly turns more serious and she stares at MJ intently like she’s trying to see through the façade and get to the bottom of MJ’s true feelings.

MJ is about to fumble for an excuse, anything to get Betty to drop it so she can stop feeling so exposed, when Ben runs into the kitchen excitedly shouting, “Mummy, look!”

He holds two identical elephant plushies and MJ snorts, eyes briefly flicking up to Ned and Flash who stand behind her son before she kneels down to admire the elephants accordingly. She then gently convinces Ben to put them away for now so they can have some food.

All four adults sit down around the small kitchen table whilst Ben sits with them in his high chair that he doesn’t really need anymore but MJ brought out anyway as they only have four chairs around the table.

The table chatters quietly as they dig into the food and wine Flash brought. MJ doesn’t really have much of an appetite so chooses to focus on supervising Ben with feeding himself the food she cut up for him. Sometimes he has a tendency to be fussy about food, still at the age where he’s discovering and learning, but the vegetable lasagna is eaten with little fuss given that it’s his favorite, just like his dad.

MJ zones out as she watches Ben eat, her mind drifting back to games of footsie and a hand sneaking up her thigh under the table like teenagers whilst they ate, which their friends politely pretended not to notice until it verged into inappropriate and someone had to admonish them.

Everyone compliments her on the lasagne and she tells them it’s store bought with a laugh, to which they change their tone to telling her how it’s not as good as the one she makes herself.

When they’re done eating, Betty volunteers herself to put away the leftovers and get the dessert out—a chocolate fudge cake, another one of Peter’s favorites, that Betty innocently informs them her and Ned made together at her apartment which causes MJ and Flash to raise their eyebrows once again in keen interest whilst Ned shakes his head, tired of his friends’ antics.

They have the cake with ice cream and MJ lets Ben have a few bites of her slice until he notices that she hasn’t had any of it and refuses to have any until she eats—her observant, considerate boy.

When they’re finished with dessert they stay sat around the table in a state of post-prandial laziness for a while, just happily chatting.

Betty is first to leave eventually, offering up excuses about a work deadline on Monday as well as her thanks for the invitation and for the delicious food and wine.

Flash leaves not long after, confirming plans to come and babysit Ben at some point soon.

Which leaves just her, Ben and Ned in the apartment.

Though Ben’s tried his best to stay awake, excited and stimulated by their company, she can tell he’s extremely tired from the way he blinks sleepy slow and keeps losing his concentration on another invented game he’s trying to play.

“I’m gonna go put him to bed,” MJ announces as she lifts him from the chair. Ben quickly wraps both arms around her and rests his head on her shoulder, starting to fall asleep before she’s even taken a step out of the kitchen.

“I’ll clean up,” Ned responds.

* * *

It takes her a while to put Ben down due to his refusal to sleep in his own bed until she eventually relents and lets him stay in her bed, again.

By the time she comes back into the kitchen, Ned has finished loading the dishwasher—an ancient thing that came with the place that they only use on occasions like now when they have loads of dishes—and has wiped down the table and counters and put everything else away.

She offers him a small, grateful smile. “Let’s finish off that bottle of wine,” she says, picking up the half-filled bottle that remains before she turns to head to the living room with Ned following after her with two clean wine glasses.

The pair settle on the couch, a wine glass each in their hands and some old sitcom playing on the TV.

They mostly sit in silence, occasionally laughing at some joke on the screen as they slowly sip their wine. They don’t need to exchange anecdotes about Peter to fill the silence for their shared grief and an understanding, borne out of being Peter’s best friends in a way that was the same yet startingly different, flows between them because they’re them and know each other in a way that’s as incomparable as it is indescribable.

When the episode ends Ned turns to her and asks, “You wanna do the thing?”

MJ doesn’t have to ask him to specify or clarify what he means, she instead just wordlessly nods.

Ned briefly goes to the kitchen and she can just make out the sounds of him riffling through the drawers then the sound of the fridge door closing before she sees him heading back.

He resettles on the couch and places the cupcake on the table between them before placing a lone candle on it and lighting it. He gestures for her to do the honors.

MJ doesn’t move to blow the candle out immediately, gaze focused on the flickering flame of the candle as she gets lost in her memories of birthdays they’ve done this exact thing over the years since Midtown, birthdays like: Peter’s 17th birthday in a S.H.I.E.L.D safehouse Ned and MJ had been driven to by a sketchy looking agent, MJ’s 21st on her rooftop which Ned had separately tricked her and Peter onto when the two where in the off stage of their on-off relationship and were avoiding each other, and Ned’s 32nd birthday in the lobby of his work where they had surprised him with his traditional birthday cupcake and the news of how he was soon to become an uncle.

Her chest aches unpleasantly at the thought of future birthdays to come like this, without the third in their trio.

She realises she’s spent too long blowing out the candle again. If Peter were here he’d chide her for always taking too long to make a wish.

“ _The wax will get on the cake, MJ!”_

_“As if that’d stop you eating it.”_

She read somewhere that grief is like a ball in a box which has a pain button; initially the ball is so big that it constantly hits the pain button but eventually, gradually, the ball shrinks so it only hits the pain button occasionally. Today is one of those days where the ball hits the button, but Peter’s endless love for her which she still carries with her, tucked away in her heart, helps soothe her.

She leans forward closer to the cake, closes her eyes then blows the candle out.

“Happy birthday, Pete,” she whispers out.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry about this, I will never do mcd again, probably. Blame seek.  
> Pls just pretend Peter's post-FFH identity reveal crisis was solved through some hand-wavey skrull stuff that meant the whole world and J Jonah Jameson forgot he's Spider-Man but Peter went on to work for the man bc he's petty and ridiculous enough to work for a man who once revealed his secret identity to the world taking pictures of his vigilante alter ego.  
> The part about grief being a ball in a box was taken from [here](https://narwhalertheimpaler.tumblr.com/post/181879443757/this-is-the-most-accurate-description-ive-ever), I'm not that creatively profound.
> 
> You're more than welcome to shout at me in the comments for this one.


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